


Kiss With a Fist

by theimaginesyouneveraskedfor



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-06
Updated: 2018-02-06
Packaged: 2019-03-14 16:18:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13593807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theimaginesyouneveraskedfor/pseuds/theimaginesyouneveraskedfor
Summary: The reader reaches the end of their tether with the King Under the Mountain.





	Kiss With a Fist

The tavern buzzed with voices, many you recognized and others you did not. The company sat in pairs and trios around a cluster of tables, relishing the ale frothed before them in wooden steins. It was the first inn along the road which had allowed your ilk within their walls. As you lost yourself in the haze of the crowd, one figure drew your focus.

The dwarf king sat atop a tall stool along the tall bar so that he could see over it, and more significantly, so that he could admire the barmaid on the other side. Only moments ago, he had been chattering with Dwalin and Balin at the next table but had quickly acquiesced to the bar. You had been so distracted with the grainy aroma of your ale that you had not noticed Thorin’s absence from your hoard.

You shook your head and gulped back a mouthful of ale. It was no concern of yours if the king chose to flirt with some human wench. It only seemed rather hypocritical after all his ranting and raving about duty and discipline.  _How many times had he reprimanded members of his own company, you as much as any, about priorities and focus?_  You supposed a king could do as he liked, even if his subjects were forbidden the same.

Your eyes snapped back to the bar as the barmaid set down another pint before Thorin who took it with exaggerated relish. The rosy-cheeked human giggled and smiled at the dwarf and his deep laughter rumbled in response. You were tempted to smack him for his peculiar joviality. _How often had you tolerated his dark moods and somber snarls?_

You drained the last of your ale and stood, belching without restraint as you kept hold of your stein. Fili and Kili barely noticed as they chuckled over some inane joke and you marched to the bar, planting your stein beside Thorin’s.

“Another, if you will,” You said to the barmaid, barely able to see her from the floor. Looking up at Thorin perched on his stool, you felt even more ridiculous, “Enjoying yourself?”

“Very much,” He took his own cup and slurped from it, “Not often Men brew strong ale.”

“Mmm,” You tossed a couple coins on the bar and took your replenished drink with a frown, “Strong indeed…” You considered Thorin as you turned slightly, “Just remember, we’ll be back on the road early.”

“A king never forgets his duties,” He replied staunchly, “But thanks.”

You raised your brows dryly and shook your head, walking away as he turned his attention back to the barmaid. You heard another flutter of giggles behind you and sat down heavily between the Durin brothers. “Oi, Y/N, you should’ve told us you were going for a refill,” They tapped their empty steins.

You huffed and pushed yours towards the brothers without looking. You had suddenly lost your thirst. “Split it, I prefer dwarvish ale,” You crossed your arms and leaned on the table darkly, “So, what lame joke were you two laughing about anyway?”

“Lame?” Fili spluttered and elbowed his brother, “Our jokes are anything but.”

You barely heard the princes’ joke as your mind strayed back to Thorin. You refused to look at him, but he was all that filled your mind. _Mahal, he was irritating! Why did he had to be so contrary?_ In the morning, he would be hung over and the lot of you would have to deal with his foul attitude.

You growled as the brothers sensed your disinterest and went back to their banter. You needed to forget about the stubborn dwarf and tend to your grievances. So long on the road and your feet were screaming, your joints endlessly achy, and your head reeling from lack of sleep. The last thing you needed was another worry.

Yet, Thorin lingered on your mind and when the rest began to retire, you looked to find him far from withdrawing from his seat at the bar. You sighed and moped as you watched him waver and belch loudly. A man to his right glared at him and the barmaid was growing visibly irritated, only giggling in hopes of a gratuity. The king was in a right state and the rest had been too involved in their own cups to remand him.

You pushed yourself up and cracked your neck in preparation for your mission. The king was stubborn when he was sober, you could only expect he’d be worse without his inhibitions. You swallowed as you stepped up beside him and cleared your throat, drawing his eyes to you as he wobbled on the stool.

“Thorin, it’s getting late,” You said quietly.

“Yeah?” He laughed and turned back to the bar maid, signaling for another brew.

“No,” You waved her off and touched his elbow lightly, “Truly, your majesty, I think it’s time you call it a night. We will leave at first light and you’ll surely be poorly off as it were.”

“I can take care of myself,” He shimmied off the stool, pushing away your hand, “I needn’t you haranguing me all the way to the mountain. You aren’t my mother.”

“Mahal, Thorin, you’re lucky I don’t smack you like I was,” You growled, hands on hips, “You’re making a fool of me and worse, yourself. Now, let’s go.”

“Hmmp,” He pursed his lips obstinately, looking behind him at the audience pretending to be enraptured by their drinks and fingernails, “Fine…”

He droned off into a slur of incomprehensible nonsense, no doubt obscenities aimed at you. You would have been better off to leave him to pass out on the tavern floor but you were as responsible as any for the damned dwarf. He was your king and you needed him as much as he needed you to reclaim Erebor. Not that the rest of the company had shown any concern, contenting themselves to drink as much ale as they could without drowning themselves.

You barely got Thorin into the hallway before he started dragging his feet, hanging onto the wall for balance as he gripped his forehead. “Oooooo, I’m dizzy,” He hiccuped as you took his arm and urged him forward.

“Of course, you are. You’re lucky you’re still awake,”

You lugged him further, leaning him against his door frame as you searched his tunic for his key. His eyes closed his eyes and he giggled. “That tickles,” He commented but made no move to push you away. You pulled forth the skeleton keys and unlocked his door swiftly, ushering him inside as he continued to ramble.

“I like it when you touch me like that,” He said as you led him to the bed, “Oh, are you going to lay with me?” His voice lowered to a whisper as he spoke and grinned vulgarly, “I didn’t know, you know, you were interested.”

“Oh, Mahal,” You grumbled as you sat him down heavily, helping him lay straight before turning him onto his stomach and ignored his lewd words. He probably thought the barmaid had accompanied him back to his chambers and likely was unaware of your presence or your boiling rage. “Just go to sleep, Thorin.”

“Not without you, darling,” He reached out and you pushed away his hand; he definitely wasn’t talking to you.

“Here’s a bucket,” You plunked down the chamber pot next to the bed, “If you need to vomit, try to aim straight.”

You turned away before the urge to slap him across the head became too strong and left him in the darkness. His snores began to rumble before you closed the door and you withheld the scream clawing at your chest.  _Mahal, he was absolutely infuriating._  At least when he was sober he had command over his tongue but it barely made him more tolerable. The journey would only grow longer by the day with each moment spent near the king.

* * *

You would have been smug at Thorin’s misery the day after his excess if it hadn’t intensified his unpleasantness. He barely said a word but it made little difference as those he did were sharper than any of his blades. You kept your distance, more annoyed with him than he was with anyone else. He was too stubborn to accept that his agony was his own fault. Worse, he had embarrassed himself and you.

Days passed, and you kept your words to yourself even when he antagonized you. You hadn’t said much to anybody and you didn’t have much too say. Every day was the same, the road never ended, and you could only keep going.

When you thought of the night in the tavern, your cheeks burned as hot as your anger. He likely didn’t even recall the scene he had made and if he did, he was likely in denial. Surely, he could not remember you helping to bed either. Though, if he had, would you really have expected a thank you? _Ugh! How obtuse he was!_

You were gritting your teeth as you sat silently, mulling over the scene which played endlessly in your mind. You did not even notice the shift beside you and two elbows in your sides brought you back to consciousness. Fili and Kili stared at you, the two of them bookending you in.

“What’s the matter, Y/N?” Fili leaned his chin in his hand dramatically, “You look…perturbed?”

“Do I?” You were a poor liar.

“Well, not so much perturbed as murderous,” Kili chimed, “It’s quite frightening. You’ve been staring at Thorin for twenty minutes as if he were an orc.”

“Oh, yes, or a troll…I think at least they share a closer resemblance,” Fili kidded, “You keep it up and he’ll notice, too. As dense as he can be.”

“I don’t care,” You snarled and uncrossed your arms, “Not my fault he’s a donkey.”

“Ooooh,” The brothers sang in unison, “What’d he do?”

“Nothing…everything,” You huffed, “You know him. He just has to _be_.”

“We won’t deny he has a particular gift for being a thorn to one’s side, but I dare say neither of us can guess at how he would inspire such pure…” Fili grasped for words.

“Rage,” Kili finished for him and the pair shared sly grins.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” You rumbled, “Besides,” You looked from one to the other, “Neither of  _you_  need to worry about  _my_ anger.”

“Umm…” Kili blanched as he looked to his brother, “I think that might’ve been a threat, Fi.”

“I am most assured that it was,” Fili stood and pulled his brother up by his sleeve, “We’ll just be on our way before we overstay our welcome.”

You didn’t watch them go but were glad for their departure. They reminded you of Thorin and you were close to knocking their heads together in lieu of their uncle. You found the king’s dark head, streaked with silver, as he sat on the other side of camp. His blue eyes met yours and your lip curled as he flinched and looked to Dwalin beside him.

With his companion absorbed in conversation with Balin, Thorin stood as he turned back to you and made his way around the fire. He stopped before you, staring down his nose as if to intimidate you. Unamused by his air of authority, you rose and cracked your knuckles, though you were still too short to look at him straight. “Can I help you?”

“Pardon?” He asked, taken back, “Is that how you speak to your king?”

“It’s how I speak to  _this_  king,” You were so upset, you could not censor yourself, even though you knew your words were dangerous, “I show the same respect I get.”

“What do you mean? What’ve I—”

“You wouldn’t remember, would you?” You scoffed and kicked a stone, sidestepping him, “I’d expect as much. Even if you had been sober you’d not have the sense to know when you’ve offended someone.”

“Speak straight to me, Y/N,” He grabbed your arm and you recoiled, shoving away his hand.

“Don’t touch me! I don’t owe you nothing,” He reached for you again and you dodged him swiftly, “I mean it, Thorin. If you do it again I’ll give you exactly what you deserve.”

You turned to walk away from him, ready to storm off into the trees but felt his hand around your wrist. You turned and twisted Thorin’s fingers so that he released you. As he reeled, you shoved him once more and he pushed you back in kind. You aimed a fist at him, but he caught it easily. You drew him towards you and wrapped your other arm around his neck, locking him in a chokehold.

He released your other hand in his struggle, now clawing at your arm though you didn’t squeeze enough to block his breathing. He was bent over as you kept his head under your arm and grunted against his struggles. The rest of the dwarves had risen and were watching in shock, the royal nephews holding back laughter.

“Dear, you don’t want to do this,” Balin approached slowly, “Thorin’s your king and—”

“Well, maybe he should act it instead of a hypocrite,” You continued to wrestle with Thorin, “He earned this.”

“Listen to him,” Dwalin stepped up, “As much as I want to box the oaf’s ears in, I don’t. Now let him go before he works himself up.”

You crooked your lips looked around the circle of elves and the single hobbit. You shook your head and released Thorin, kicking dirt at him as he brushed his hair out of his face. Before he could rebuke you, you kicked dirt at him and whirled around, marching towards the trees with a cry of frustration. You heard the Fundin brothers calming him from following you. It was better he didn’t for in the solitary of the forest, you may just knock him on his ass.

* * *

Thorin swept the curtain of hair away from his face, nearly blinded as a cloud of dust speckled across his front. Y/N stomped into the trees before he could call to her and a thundering silence remained in her stead. He looked around at his audience, each on a varied state of shock and amusement. His own nephews were hiding smirks behind their hands and Dwalin, despite his tidings, seemed pleased by the display. Even Balin offered little comfort to the king as he regained his bearings.

“What was that about?” He looked from the forest to his company, “What’d I do?”

“Apart from being a horse’s arse in general?” Bofur sniggered, retreating quickly at Thorin’s sneer.

“I fathom it has something to do with the tavern, uncle,” Fili stepped up nonchalantly, “There was that comment about your sobriety—”

“And the fact that you were knocked of your ass drunk,” Kili added and the pair chuckled.

“The rest of us couldn’t be bothered, you know? Because we’re well aware how you get in your cups,” Dwalin joined the fray, “And you seemed right enraptured by that barmaid.”

“Barmaid?” Thorin tried to recall the night through his ale-clouded mind, “I don’t know…”

“Well, you best remember sooner than later because I don’t think Y/N will be forgetting any time soon,” Dwalin warned.

“And she’s much stronger than she looks,” Fili offered, “Mahal, I think I’ll stop putting stones in her pack before she catches on.”

“Good idea, brother,” Kili nudged his brother with a smirk, “Best we all stay clear of that banshee.”

* * *

You took the biggest rock you could find and whipped it at the bark of a tree, a patch falling away as the stone ricocheted. You continued to pelt the wooden giant as the sounds of the forest surrounded you. Birds chirped, critters scurried, and leaves rustled. _It would have been calming if you weren’t so damned angry!_

With each stone, you cursed and you continued in your blind assault until a sudden snap pulled you from your trance. You turned, tossing a rock in the direction of the interruption and it bounced of Thorin’s shoulder as he appeared from the brush. You groaned and dropped your handful of stones, turning away from him in retreat.

“Go away,” You commanded as you made to flee once more into the trees.

“Wait,” He rushed to catch you but did not grab your arm as before, only brushing his fingers across your elbow, “Please.”

“Why should I?” You spun to face him, “Can’t you just let me be? I am so tired of you!”

“I—but why?” He stammered, “I don’t know what I did, Y/N.”

“That’s not my problem. You’re not my problem,” You crossed your arms, “I’m done worrying about you.”

“Y/N, how am I supposed to apologize to you if I don’t know what I did?”

“Apologize?  _You?_ ” You laughed darkly, “That’s a lark.”

“I was…intoxicated and I can’t remember,” His features shadowed with shame, his brows turning downward and his eyes flicking back and forth, “I’m really trying though.”

“I oughta finish what I started,” You growled, “If you weren’t king, I’d have left you in the dirt.”

“Y/N, I…” He gripped his head as he stepped back, his face creasing as he searched his mind. His eyes moved as if he were reading a book and he paled, his mouth falling open, “Oh, Mahal, Y/N. I’m so sorry, I was such a drunken fool, I, I—” He sputtered, “I should have never spoken to you like that.”

“Yes, well, I shouldn’t be surprised, you never were very amenable to help,” You shook your head, “I should’ve left you to your bar maid.”

“Mmm,” He frowned guiltily, “What I said…in my chamber, that was inappropriate, and I should not have been so crass.”

“You thought I was that barmaid, so what?”

“No, I—” He caught himself and winced, “Well, not exactly. I, uh, knew it was you.”

“You did?” Your wrath ebbed away slightly in your surprise.

“Course I did,” He shrugged, wringing his hands, “I was too drunk to keep hold of my tongue and…well, I wouldn’t turn you away from my bed—I mean—” His cheeks were glowing as he stumbled over his words, “Really, what I’m trying to do is say I’m sorry for my behavior but I’m really not making it better.”

“Thorin,” You nearly laughed at his unexpected admission; never had you assumed anything from him but indifference, “I think you should stop while you’re ahead.”

“Do you forgive me?” He smiled sheepishly.

“Well, I don’t have as strong an urge to choke you,” You neared him as he held his ground cautiously, bracing himself, “So I suppose I do.”

He exhaled slowly, and relief washed over him though tension remained between you.

“And, uh, can we forget that other thing I said?”

“What other thing?” You asked nonchalantly, “Oh, yeah about asking me to your bed?”

“Yes, um, that thing,” He grasped at his tunic as his eyes eluded yours.

“It’s kind of hard to forget,” You touched his shoulder, “But seeing as your bedroll doesn’t look much better than my own, I think I’ll hold off on accepting that invitation,” His eyes darted back to you, visibly stunned, “For now.”

With that, you poked him in his mailed chest and trilled with amused laughter, stepping past him and leaving him among the trees. It was his turn to squirm and you would happily let him ruminate on his transgressions. You had never seen the king so agitated and it gave you an odd sense of triumph.

You smirked as you walked away from Thorin; it would be a fun journey, indeed.


End file.
